


Man After Your Heart

by ourdreamsrealized



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland (1951), Alice in Wonderland (1999), Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Comfort, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, One-Shot, Reader-Insert, Relationship(s), Romance, Sexual Themes, genderbent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 15:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17645432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourdreamsrealized/pseuds/ourdreamsrealized
Summary: He was known for his temper and womanizing ways; he was the King of Hearts, but he was also the man after your own.





	Man After Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Posting stuff from my Tumblr. Enjoy!

“Where is Y/N?”

The shouted question broke through the silence of the courtyard you were currently occupying, causing you to lift your head and turn away from the book that lay open in your lap. You knew the king was looking for you; he would turn the whole palace upside down to find you, but you remained on the stone bench, your legs crossed at the ankles.

You had been avoiding Irace as much as possible since he had trapped you within these walls because you never felt comfortable around him. You despised his temper, something that was easily provoked, and the way he ordered everyone around so selfishly made your blood boil.

He had no right! Even if he was royalty…

But what bothered you most was the gaze he always fixed on you when you were in his presence. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but you did not see a heartless man in his pools of chocolate. You didn’t see anything accept warm, brown eyes, the kind that puppies wore. However, when he looked at you with them, you felt bare, like you had forgotten to dress for the occasion.

It wasn’t a negative feeling, but, at the same time, it left you unsettled.

The King of Hearts owned up to his title. Despite his despicable demeanor, Irace could capture the hearts of many a woman. It always started the same. He would see a girl he liked, force her to live in his home while he showered her and her family with gifts, and eventually, she would fall for his charms, the danger that fell from him in waves. By that time, he had begun to tire of her, grow bored with what she had to offer, even though it, at one time, intrigued him. Then, she was dismissed, told to pack her bags and leave by the dawn of the next day.

It had been a week since he picked you out of the crowd at one of his balls. You were dancing with your elder brother, who always made you laugh and kept you company at such formal gatherings, when he asked if he could cut in.

You shared one dance with him, attempting to make conversation despite your nerves, and the following evening, you came home from the market to see your mother and father at the kitchen table, lines forming on their foreheads as they regarded a piece of parchment. When your mother saw you, she choked on a sob, and your father just pulled you into a hug.

You were in a new bed by the end of the night, and it was in the chamber adjacent to his Royal Highness’.

“Ah! There you are, my dove.”

You lowered your chin, facing forward as the young king approached you, clad in red and white riding gear. He took off his charcoal cap, holding it between his arm and torso.

“My Lord.” You bowed your head, forcing a soft smile across your face. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

You closed your book and met his piercing gaze.

“I was out with Heme, and it occurred to me that your parents breed horses for a living. Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

He licked his lips, averting his stare for a moment as he shifted weight from boot to the other. “Do you…enjoy horseback riding?”

The question threw you, considering how, within the past seven days he hadn’t asked anything of you, but you found yourself nodding.

“Would you accompany me for a ride later? I could show you the castle grounds…”

Your eyes widened, despite your attempts at hiding your true feelings on his invitation. “I…um…of course, Sire. How could I refuse?”

Because, knowing him, you really couldn’t.

“Good.” His lips stretched into a grin. “We’ll go after supper.”

You didn’t respond, and the silence that settled between the two of you was painful.

“Well…” Irace cleared his throat. “I shall see you then.”

And with that, he was walking away from you, his footsteps echoing on the cobble stone path.

It was nearly dark when you found yourself waiting at the stables, clad in the least elaborate gown you could find among the many you were supplied with upon your arrival to the castle. It was a wool gown with long sleeves, meant for the colder weather and perfect for the bite the night air seemed to have.

You were wearing a pair of leather boots, your prized possession, when you were summoned here, and they were what you often wore when riding. You were happy you had brought them, considering all the other shoes in your wardrobe were either slippers or heels.

“I apologize for being late.”

You spun around to face Irace, a delicate smile playing on your lips when you saw him clad in the same riding gear as earlier. He really did look handsome in red; it brought out his dark features: his tanned skin, the cocoa curls of his hair, and his doe-like eyes.

“Shall we?” He held out a white-gloved hand.

You took it and let him lead you over to one of the stalls, where a mare stood, peering out at you with similar eyes to the king’s. Her coat was cream, and her mane extended down her neck in vanilla waves.

She flicked her tail, snorting as she approached the gate.

“This is Heme,” your companion whispered, reaching out his free hand to touch her face. “I acquired her when she was just a foal, and she was nowhere near as temperate as her mother. It took me months to get her to let me approach her, let alone mount her.”

“She’s beautiful.” You let her examine your hand before stroking the side of her muzzle.

“She likes you,” Irace remarked, glancing at you before returning his attention the horse in front of him. “If she hadn’t, I would’ve given you Aorta.”

“Your Highness?” You raised your H/C brows at him. “I am to ride by myself?”

“Well, of course,” he responded before jumping into Heme’s space. “I thought you would enjoy it.” He grabbed a silver-colored saddle and placed it on the mare’s back, already adjusting it. “Would you prefer to share Heme?”

“No, I…” You lifted your shoulders, a bit flustered by just what that would entail.

“Do you know how to ride side-saddle?” He questioned, his tepid gaze taking in your form as if he just realized you were wearing a skirt.

You shook your head; your father never bothered to teach you, considering most of the work you did with the horses was considered men’s work. It was under very unusual circumstances that you would wear a dress to your family’s stables.

“’Tis fine.” He grinned, bringing Heme from her stall by her reigns. “It’s an excuse to hold a beautiful maiden, and I would never complain about that.”

You tried to ignore the fact he admitted to finding you attractive, and the fact that your heart seemed to leap as the statement involuntarily replayed in your mind was frightening.

He said, ‘a beautiful maiden.’

He generalized. He’d be fine with any woman semi-pleasing to the eye.

The self-reminder put a damper on your excitement to ride, but you forced a smile and allowed Irace to help you onto Heme’s back. He didn’t give you much time to prepare yourself mentally before following you up.

His front was pressed against your back, and his biceps were pressing into your sides through his sleeves as he took the reins in both of his hands.

“Are you ready, my dove?” His words tickled the back of your neck.

No.

But you nodded your head anyway.

The moon was high above the trees when the two of you dismounted.

Irace had shown you everything the palace had to offer in its immense garden: the roses, the maze, the large fountain at the center of it all, but he hadn’t stopped in any of those places. Instead, he slowed Heme down when you approached a lake towards the back of his property.

Once your two feet were on the ground, Irace allowed Heme to graze while he led you over to a gigantic weeping willow. A large swing hung from one of its sturdier branches, and he gestured to it, suggesting with his eyes that you sit.

You, feeling no need to argue, lowered yourself to the metal seat, your fingers curling around the silver ropes as you looked up at him.

His focus was no longer on you, though; it resided on the still water of the lake, which would be practically invisible behind the height of the grass, if it did not reflect the starry sky above.

“My mother and I used to come here when I was just a boy…” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning on the trunk of the tree. His piercing gaze found yours, a slight curve to the corners of his mouth. “We used to sit on the swing together, and she would make it sway, using the tips and heels of her feet.”

He faced the water again, a sigh escaping through his nose. “She had to play the part of each parent. My father was too busy being a king or fooling around to be with his family, but I can’t say that I blame him…Being crowned at the age of twelve allowed me to see what he had gone through every day…”

He paused, and you let the silence drag, somehow knowing that he needed to be the one to end it.

“I realize that your opinion of me is justified. I’m hot-tempered, and I am as well known for…fraternizing as my father is…”

He seemed like he had more to say, but he did not open his mouth again.

And even though you were a quiet girl, raised to speak only when spoken to, you found yourself voicing a question that had been plaguing you since he had tapped your brother’s shoulder, asking if he could cut in.

“Why me?”

“What?” He turned towards you, and you could barely make out the curious expression on his face.

“Why me? Why send for me? Why take me here?” You paused. “Why tell me what you just told me?”

His shoulders relaxed at your words as he lifted himself from the support of the tree and came over to stand above you. He placed his hands above your own on the ropes the held the swing, bending his face down so that you could see the softness in his eyes.

“When I asked you to dance at that ball, I was doing so with the same intentions I had with every girl before you.”

You swallowed thickly, bowing your head.

“But then, when you talked to me and genuinely listened to what I had to say, I found myself entranced. I had to see you again, to have another conversation with you, but instead, I did the only thing I knew how to do.” He shook his head, a short, despising laugh coming from his lips. “Getting you here was easy. Talking with you…was not.”

You dared a glimpse at him, only to be captured by his heavy stare.

“It took me a week to gather the courage to ask you this, but, please, give me an honest answer. Don’t…” He adjusted his stance before letting out a haggard breath. “Don’t look at me as the King of Hearts or a king, for that matter. Could you…Would you do that for me?”

You gave him a hesitant nod.

“Thank you…” His smile was appreciative. “Now, would you allow me to court you?”

The inquiry made your heart hammer against your chest, but you could also feel your palms and the soles of your feet moisten.

You didn’t know what it was that permitted you to respond the way you did. You just felt like you had to move, do something, even if it was craning your neck a bit to press your lips to his rough cheek.

You regretted the peck as soon as you drew back, and you did not dare gauge his reaction. Your own body was punishing you; your stomach had switched from fluttering butterflies to merciless waves.

But the sensation disappeared when you felt his thumb against your chin, tilting your head back as he returned the gesture, pecking the skin just below your right, E/C orb.

“Thank you.”


End file.
